Their club captain is 3ft 3in, their midfield playmaker looks like a member of some American indy band and has spent much of his career playing like it too, and their best defender was named after a passage from Pulp Fiction. Probably. Their mascot is a bloke in cow-print pyjamas wearing a colossal foam head with googly eyes, high-fiving footballers and tripping referees - unveiled on the same day, and with the same fanfare, as their big summer signing. Their most famous supporter is a loony with a flag, a simpleton's smile and shorts so short you fear the boys popping out the barracks. And their specially commissioned anthem was sung by Spain's equivalent of Gareth Gates - a "tune" so dreadful fans rejected it, instead adopting traditional number La Fuente de Cacho.

Founder members of La Liga, they've spent most of their history in primera but never even won second prize in a beauty contest, their existence justified by the occasional glory night. Like wins against Barça and Real Madrid, thrashings so comprehensive, so humiliating, you half expected to hear Max Mosley shouting "Eine! Zwei! Drei!" - the five-goal victory over Madrid was so famous it was immortalised in green hand-print T-shirts still worn with pride. Since the civil war, they've never finished above eighth and have only been in the top half twice. They've never managed four successive top-flight victories and before this season the Sardinero had been filled just twice - once for promotion in 1993 and once for Everton vs Madrid. For years the best thing about it was the walk there, surely the finest stadium approach in Europe. There wasn't much point actually going in. Not even to the club shop, which doesn't even sell mugs.

And yet yesterday, there was a point. Certainly more of one than following the title race, which this column is boycotting until anyone can actually be bothered to try and win it. For yesterday Real Racing Club de Santander stood on the verge of something truly monumental - a single victory against relegation-threatened Deportivo de La Coruña away from their best ever wins total, and a single clean sheet away from a new record. Better still, a single victory from a Champions League place. Yes, Racing.

Now, on the one hand, some think a Champions League place is the worst thing that can happen to a club like Racing, the experience of relegated Celta all too fresh. But then, on the other hand, Racing fans couldn't give a toss. Most would take relegation for a year in the sun, which is why yesterday was such a big day. The team bus may have been met with a smattering of applause and a few "you can do it"s, but an hour later the Sardinero was packed, fans unfurled their scarves to belt out La Fuente de Cacho, a gleaming car was parked on the centre-circle, the cigars in the directors' box were especially fat and particularly dizzying, and captain Pedro Munitis walked on to the pitch carrying a kid in a Racing kit in his arms - although it could have been a kid walking on to the pitch carrying captain Pedro Munitis in his arms, it's hard to tell. The local press declared "today more than ever, Racing Santander!!" and even the national press dedicated the game, ooh, at least 100 words. After all, Racing had never been here before.

Trouble is, they'll probably never be here again either - and the euphoria lasted all of 45 seconds. That was all it took for Xisco to make it 1-0 to Depor and, while Racing moved the car from the centre circle, Miguel-Ángel Lotina had no intention of moving the bus from his goal-line. Faced with a packed defence, forced to take the initiative, roared on, Racing suddenly became vulnerable and suddenly looked like what they really are: a pretty average side overachieving. Worse still, within five minutes the scoreboard had already shown two goals for Atlético Madrid, the side Racing hoped to overhaul, and after 23 minutes Fabricio Coloccini made it 2-0 to Depor. Although Jorge López gave Racing hope with a clever free-kick and 10-men Almería gave them hope with a fight-back down at the Calderón, Xisco scored again before half-time. Depor had taken three shots and won 3-1; Atléti meanwhile ran out 6-3 winners, Racing's golden opportunity gone.

"It's a terrible blow," muttered coach Marcelino afterwards, "we just weren't ourselves." Which was true, but Marcelino should not - and will not - panic. Racing still have a five-point cushion in a Uefa Cup spot and that's a huge achievement - "greater", claims Munitis, "than all the trophies at Madrid put together". Just as the Copa del Rey semi-final defeat was a massive disappointment but also a huge achievement, in fact: Racing have never played in Europe and had never reached a semi-final until this season.

With trapist monk turned military man Francisco Pernía taking over at the club and backed by the local government, Racing can now run at a loss of over 5m a year without going under and have finally closed the door on the Dimitry Piterman circus that threatened to sink them - and Alavés. They have also imposed a policy of "Cantabrización" - buying local boys Luis Fernández, Munitis and Gonzalo Colsa, as well as chasing Ivan de la Peña and Iván Helguera - which has seen the club develop an identity based on dressing-room heavyweights genuinely committed to the cause. The fans too have responded in style: yesterday was the fifth time this season the Sardinero has been filled and a once-cold ground has really found its voice.

But the greatest success is on the pitch and the secret is coach Marcelino, who took Recreativo to the Second Division title and made them the revelation of last season, watching them collapse to relegation candidates in his absence. When he arrived this summer, Racing sold their best striker - half of the dynamic duo that led them to relative success last year. But with Munitis declaring him the "greatest coach I've had", Marcelino has built a compact, organised side from a bunch of players who, as one insider admits, "should never finish above 15th". Sure, they weren't themselves yesterday. But that's because arguably for the first time in 70 years, Racing Santander are something. Something good.